Ashes
by Eilidh17
Summary: Set after the events of Threads. Sam reflects on her father, family and team.


**Ashes**

Sam's fingernails dug into the palm of her hand as another shiver shook her body. The disobedient tear she had willed to go away rolled defiantly down her cheek, trailing all the way down to her mouth, but her fists stayed clenched by her side.

She knew that single, salty tear signaled a change in her life, that her difficult, brave, funny soldier of a father was finally gone.

_Ashes to ashes… dust to dust…._

Death was no mystery to Lt Colonel Samantha Carter; she had seen and caused enough to harden the most stubborn of hearts. But that day, standing in the chapel where she had buried her mom, she felt lost and alone. The warrior in her seemed to have just up and gone, leaving behind a small, tow-haired child with a heart that threatened to break.

The quaint, stone chapel smelled of dusty books and furniture polish; of the slightest hint of stale, scented smoke from a chain of candles that formed a semi-circle around a lace-shrouded alter. She remembered her First Communion here. Her mother holding her hand when nerves got the better of her and she couldn't quite remember what she was supposed to do or say, and of the warm smile her father sent her from his spot at the front of the congregation, all polished in his Air Force dress blues. Most of all she recalled her fear being dampened by the pride he radiated in that smile.

Today, the chapel was mostly quiet. Sam looked at her brother's back as he stood over their father's oak casket. Jacob and Mark never had a perfect father/son relationship, but even so the measure of Mark's grief was obvious by the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head.

She wanted to go and stand by him like they had done years ago with their mother; to tell him that Jacob had died peacefully with a farewell to his family uttered with his last breath. But fear held her back. And because despite looking like a funeral for a much loved father, in her heart she knew this was nothing more than a play put on for a grieving family that was not entitled to the truth.

A casket sheath of their mother's favorite flowers—Irises and white roses—flowed across the top and down the sides of the coffin that was filled with sand bags, and secured hard and fast with the finest titanium bolts.

There was no flag, and there would be no military funeral. And when the small procession of family members, most of whom Sam could barely remember the names of, had paid their last respects, the coffin would be committed to the same plot as their mother. The Air Force would see to it that the grave would never be disturbed.

She hated the ruse, even though she understood that there was no way Jacob could be buried on Earth.

Mark met her gaze as he turned away from the coffin and took his wife's offered hand, leading his family down the narrow isle and past where she was standing. Sam felt the sudden chill of exposure wrap itself around her, as though Mark had looked into her soul and discovered the truth of their father's double life she so carefully guarded there. It was an unnerving moment, especially when all she could do was offer him a somber smile in return.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Sam could barely manage to acknowledge Daniel's presence with a nod, even though she could feel his warmth at her back, solid and very reassuring. "They deserve to know," she said after a moment of watching her family make their way out of the chapel and into the crisp, winter morning air.

"Don't do this, Sam."

"It's not fair." Daniel moved up next to her now and slipped his hand in hers. The connection jarred her; left her momentarily breathless. The warmth of his skin, the firmness of his grip, the smell of him, all brought about a sudden rush of memories and emotions that threatened to bring her down right there in the chapel. She remembered the hurt of losing him and how she tried to deal with it. Of how, for the longest of times, she wasn't even sure she could survive his loss, because ascension didn't make not having him there in their lives any easier to cope with. But she did survive. And she would survive losing her father as well, because Daniel was living proof.

"No. No it's not. Jacob knew what he was doing, and he knew what staying with Selmak would mean for everyone."

She shook her head, and the word, "Selfish," slipped out of her mouth.

"You don't mean that."

She didn't. The world needed saving and this time Jacob and Selmak had come riding to the rescue on the crest of a wormhole. Yet standing here, in a place reserved for respect and devoid of judgment, she couldn't escape the fact that he had denied her what he had ultimately given her brother—the right to grieve out of innocence. And only she would know that the body of their father and grandfather was lying under the hot baked earth of a distant planet.


End file.
